Nowhere Else To Go
by IndigoCaress
Summary: Ozcentric. Willow didn't wait for him...He finds himself in LA because he has Nowhere Else To Go. Originally posted in 6 parts. Tones of OzAngel. No slash.


He returned to Sunnydale under the glow of a full moon so that she would see that he could control the beast. He wanted to share with her the details, all the things the monks in Tibet had taught him about meditation and self-centering. Show her that he could finally be the man she needed him to be.

He had been most foolish to think she would be sitting around, alone, waiting for him. Not Willow. No. She had found someone else, someone to fill the void he created when he left her. He. Left. Her.

And she moved on.

Without him.

With her. Tara. Another woman. Oz wasn't sure how he felt about that, except that it hurt. And he knew he didn't have a right to feel betrayed. Willow had every right to move on, to find someone else, and any fool could see how happy she was with Tara, and how it hurt her to let him go.

But he couldn't blame her. Not just because he had been the one to leave in the first place. Because he had wolfed out, and the wolf had tried to hurt Tara. The wolf would have killed Tara.

He had no choice then but to admit defeat and leave again. She was happy, she was in love, she had no room for him in her life anymore. He took to the road with no particular destination in mind, except to get as far from Sunnydale, and Willow Rosenberg, as he could get.

When the first rays of sunlight filtered through the dirty windows of his van, he awoke to find himself sitting in front of a recently renovated hotel called The Hyperion. He got out of the van and walked up the steps, through the front door.

"Oz?" Cordelia Chase dropped whatever magazine she was looking at.

"Hey," he responded.

"What are you doing here?" Cordy moved around the desk, into the lobby. Before she reached Oz, someone else came into the room, and commanded Oz's attention.

Seeing the vampire was like coming home. If anyone could help him now, other than the monks in Tibet, it would be Angel.

"Oz."

"Angel."

The two men shook hands. "Good to see you."

"You too," Oz answered.

"Buffy?"

"She's good. Doesn't know I'm here."

Angel nodded. "Why..."

Oz shrugged. "No where else to go."

"Well...good to see you." Angel turned and went back into his office.

Oz stared after him until Cordelia coughed to get his attention. Oz turned back to her with a shrug. "Saw Willow."

"Oh." Cordy knew what he meant, and looked down at her feet. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Couldn't stay. Ended up here." He looked up at the ceiling. "Can I crash for a few hours?"

"Of course. Come on."

Cordelia led him to a room at the top of the stairs.

"Thanks." He smiled and slipped inside, closed the door. He kicked off his shoes and lay down on the bed, curled up on his side.

He feels the night closing in on him. The moon is rising. The wolf wants out.

He surges off the bed, to his feet. Rummages in his bag for the herbs.

A knock at the door, startling him. "Oz?"

Deep breath, herbs tight in his fist. "Yeah?" He calls back, eyes closed, mouths a silent chant.

"You okay?" Angel's voice. Concerned. Watching the clock. Anticipating the wolf.

"Yeah." Oz drags himself to the door, swings it open. "I'm good."

"Sure?"

Oz nods. Flashes the herbs. "I can fight it."

"Can't be easy."

"Not." His eyes close. he imagines Angel taking him in his arms, strong arms, demon arms, and telling him 'It's okay. I'll take care of you. Don't worry about a thing.'

Weight of a hand on his shoulder. "There's a secure cage downstairs. Strong enough to hold Angelus."

Oz nods and follows without comment.

"Anything you need?"

Oz hands Angel the small sack of herbs. "Not this."

Angel nods. "I'll come down first thing to let you out."

"Appreciate it."

As soon as Angel's up the stairs, Oz strips, lays his clothes in the corner of the cage. And lets go, gives in, allows the wolf its release.

Angel waited ten minutes past day break to go down to the basement. He meant o give Oz a few minutes to recover from the wolf. He expected to find the young man dressed and itching to get out of the cage. Instead he found himself face to face with the big and furry, and the tattered remains of Oz's clothes strewn about the floor along with the beads he'd worn around his neck and wrist.

"Tsk, tsk," Angel chided the creature who stared at him with depthless yellow eyes. "You do realise it's past sun rise, don't you? You should be gone." As he said the words out loud, the darkness and uncertainty hit him like a ton of bricks. What the hell? Where is Oz? Maybe, somehow, keeping the wolf at bay with the chants and herbs only made it stronger. Damn it.

The wolf snarled and thrust a sharp-clawed paw through the bars, made a swipe at Angel. Angel shook his head, brought on his vampire game face. The wolf's paw retreated with a tilt of the big, ugly head. Angel returned to his human guise.

He sat on the table, his legs dangling, and swinging above the floor. From within the cage, the wolf watched, licked his lips. Angel held the creature's gaze, both of them determined and unflinching.

Hours passed. Angel could hear footsteps heavy on the floor above. They knew he was down with Oz, and they would respect the weary wolf's privacy indefinitely until worry, fear, or concern got the best of them and one took the bold step of coming down. Angel didn't expect that until well past night fall.

He was determined to wait out the wolf, to be there for Oz when Oz returned. If Oz returned. Stop it. Don't think like that. The wolf can't maintain its strength that long. Shouldn't be able to maintain itself during the day, even if he was in a windowless basement. Shouldn't make a difference if sunlight can reach him. He. Shouldn't. Be. Here. But he is here, obviously, and Oz is trapped inside.

Angel hopped off the table, bounded up the stairs. "Wesley!"

Wes appeared at the top of the stairs on cue, looking haggard and sporting a five o'clock shadow.

"I need you to hit the books. Oz didn't change back."

"The wolf?"

Angel nodded. "Looking very strong. And hungry."

"Yes, I imagine so."

"I need you to research. Find out if there's any record of anything like this happening. He could obviously control it, to a point. He had herbs. They're in a pouch on my desk. Beads, scattered on the floor down there. Check his bag upstairs for…any other charms.."

Wesley was already halfway to the stairs. "I'm on it."

"Thanks, Wes," Angel called, and was already halfway down the steps. The wolf greeted him with a dog-like growl. Angel growled back. The wolf butted against the cage.

"Don't take too long, Wes. We're counting on you," Angel sighed.

"Angel," Wesley called as he descended the stairs to the basement. Angel slithered off the table, and the wolf grunted and lumbered to the bars and raised up on its haunches..

"Anything?"

Wesley sighed and thrust an oversized book at Angel. "Nothing you'd care to hear, I'm sure." At a glance, Angel could tell the text was not human. "It documents a werewolf in the 1500s. Captured three days after a full moon, kept in captivity until starvation claimed its life. It was believed the human would emerge as the creature weakened. Only in death did he human form return, and of course by then it was too late."

Angel glanced at the yellow eyed wolf behind the bars. "I won't let that happen to Oz." Angel sighed and turned back to Wesley. "Did you find anything in his bag?"

"More herbs, beads, a book of meditations. Some stones and a lock of hair in a pouch. Nothing more."

"Call Willow, see if she…" The wolf snorted at Willow's name.

"Already done," Wesley closed the ancient volume and lay it on the table. "Oz was in Sunnydale the night before last. Told her about the chants and spells he uses to keep the wolf at bay under the moon. She's going to look into that for us."

"You'll let me know…"

"The minute she calls."

Three days later, the wolf lay on its side looking harmless as a domestic poodle. Angel unlocked the cage, earning a flash of yellow eyes and nothing more. Not so much as a growl.

"Okay, Wolfie, it's time to get this done," the vampire sighed and knelt next to the creature. He stroked the nape of the massive neck, unaffected by the hollow yellow eyes set on him. When Wesley coughed, Angel grabbed a chunk of hair and cut it off, thrust it through the bars for Wesley.

"This should be sufficient." Wesley handed the hair to Willow.

Angel stayed in the cage with the wolf while Willow Rosenberg preformed a spell to restore Oz to his human form.

The vampire kept his hands on the wolf the whole time, hoping Oz might find some comfort in the touch, in knowing he was not alone, as he fought off the demon. "Come on, Oz," he coaxed, moving his mouth with the words but making no sound to disrupt Willow's spell. "Fight this thing. Come back to us." As the transformation began, Angel could see the shifting of energy, the struggle between man and beast, the fragile human within the monstrous creature.

Soon the paws shifted to hands and feet, massive dog legs gave way to pale arms and legs. Angel quickly slipped out of his shirt and lay it over half of Oz's prone body, offering the human some measure of dignity in an all too undignified situation.

Trembling in raw nakedness, Oz curled in on himself, practically disappearing under Angel's burgundy dress shirt. Angel resituated himself to sit with his legs spread, and gently pulled Oz into his lap. Oz looked up to Angel's face, his eyes dull and unfocused for the brief seconds before the lids drifted shut. Angel stroked Oz's cheeks, his jaw, the shock of bright red hair.

"I've got you. It's okay. You're safe," Angel purred.

"Oz!" Willow jumped up and rushed into the cage. She knelt and kissed him, his eyes, his nose, his mouth. Oz only moaned and trembled against Angel's thighs. Angel's weight shifted slightly, and he felt one of the beads from Oz's necklace dig into his leg. For the moment, he ignored it.

"Willow," Wesley stood outside the cage.

Willow leaned back on her knees and looked up at Angel. Angel met her eyes and nodded slightly. "I'll bring him up soon."

Willow's hand lingered on Oz's shoulder for a moment, but she stood and turned away. Wesley met her at the door, his hands on her shoulders to guide her to the stairs.

Angel mouthed a silent 'Thank you' to Wesley.

Once they were gone and the door at the top of the stairs clicked shut, Angel swept the closest beads aside with his hand and shifted himself around to lean against the wall, which allowed him to pull Oz up into his arms.

Oz felt like a rag doll, and Angel bent down to check for breath, just to make sure. "We shouldn't have let you go so long," Angel sighs. "We had to wait until the wolf was too weak to fight."

A trembling arm emerged from under the red shirt draped across the human's small, pale body. Oz lifted his hand to lay his palm against Angel's cheek. "Th...tha...th..." A soft pink tongue darts out to lick dry, cracked lips.

Angel feels a shock of...of what? Not pity, never pity. Compassion, maybe. And lust, if he's honest. "Shhh, Oz. You don't have to talk. I know." Angel pulled Oz's hand from his cheek, impulsively kissed the knuckles where the fingers curled without something to support them. Shocked at the action, Angel pushed the arm down, held it to Oz's side, flipped the flimsy shirt over it.

"I've got to get you upstairs." Angel lumbered to his feet, slowly and carefully so he wouldn't jostle Oz too much. Oz curled up against Angel's chest, and Angel felt the shock of lust again. He swallowed it down and resituated his shirt to cover Oz better, to hide the bulk of the human's nakedness.

Angel took the stairs slowly to account for the sensitive bundle in his arms. Wesley must have heard his steps because he swung the door open just as Angel was about to reach for the handle.

Angel carried Oz up to the room he'd been in before. Willow, Wesley, and Cordelia followed close on his heels. He lay the boy on the mattress and covered him to the chin with blankets.

He backed his knees up to the bed, deliberately keeping himself between Oz and the others. "He's going to be fine," he said softly. "But he needs his rest."

"He should eat something," Wesley suggested.

Angel shook his head. "Maybe later. Right now he needs to rest." His eyes darkened and flitted over Wesley, Cordelia, Willow. Willow opened her mouth to protest, but Angel silenced her with a swift jerk of his hand, and one simple word. "Alone."

"Yes, of course," Wesley said firmly and disappeared with each of the women under an arm. Cordelia pulled the door shut, and Angel dropped into the nearest chair with a sigh.

He had kept an unending vigil over the wolf in the basement and he would do the same for the boy in the bed. He gripped the arms of the chair and raised his weight to drag it to the side of the bed, close enough that he could reach out casually and stroke Oz's hair.

As awareness penetrated the fog of unconsciousness in his mind, Oz surged off the bed, throwing the covers askew, leaving him exposed and gasping for breath, fighting wildly against the hands that would hold him down.

"Shhh," Angel hissed. "It's all right. It's all right." Wide, unfocused eyes stared at him, a cloud of confusion evident in the deep green orbs. "Just relax, it's all right."

After another fruitless minute of resistance, Oz fell slack against the pillows, the bottomless abyss of his gaze settled on the bare wrist of his left arm until Angel pulled the blankets up to cover the small, pale body and the arm lay buried beneath.

"What happened?" Oz whispered after a long moment of tense silence.

"Do you remember anything?" Angel sat back in his chair, placed as close to the bed as his long, thick legs would allow.

The eyes flicked shut, and a sigh escaped his lips. "Willow. I went to see her. And…I came here." He extracted both arms from the blankets, held them up for inspection. "The wolf…"

"I took you downstairs, to the cage. You didn't change back after the sun came up."

"How?"

Angel propped his feet up on the bed. "Willow. A spell. It was the only way."

Oz nodded and his eyes drifted shut again, and arms lay at his sides. "How long?"

"Three days."

The eyes opened, vibrant and green as a pair of twin emeralds. "You said Willow did it?"

"Wes called her. There was no other way."

Oz offered a slight nod. "Is she still here?"

"Downstairs." Oz sighed and shifted under the concealing covers, turned his face from Angel. The vampire patted the bulge of the blanket where he knew a small shoulder to be. "You want to see her?"

Oz hunched himself further under the covers. The fingers of his right hand caressed the bare skin of his left wrist. He sat up suddenly and faced Angel with molten eyes. "I need my beads."

"Neither of us thought to take them off before the wolf."

Oz fell back against the pillows with a sigh. "Are they…"

"I'll have Wes get them. Restring them."

"Thank you." Oz raised his hand to his hair, gripped it at the roots. "They're supposed to protect…" Angel nodded without comment, and Oz continued after a beat. "Been three months."

"You can stay here as long as you like, Oz."

The hand fell from his hair to his lap. "Pretty much nowhere else to go."

"It's settled then," Angel smiled. "Do you need anything?"

"A shower?" Angel gestured toward an open door. Oz pushed the blankets back and swung his legs over the side of the bed.


End file.
